Seriously Tangled
by Written Tunes
Summary: This is the story of how I died, but don't worry its a fun story. In fact, its not just my story, this is really the story of a girl named Rapunzel, a rogue called Flynn and a man by the name of Sirius Black. It's a bit of a messed up story.


**Prologue**

Wisps of material bent in the light, and the whispers got louder and louder as the limp body fell backwards towards the Veil.  
"SIRIUS!"  
Without hesitation, Harry ran. He had to get there in time! He had to save Sirius!  
"SIRIUS!" he screamed, his heart pounding in his chest, "SIRIUS!"  
Wait for me! Wait for me! WAIT!  
He had to get there quickly, quicker, he thought, as he narrowly dodged Remus' hands. The whispers were there and Harry knew, he just knew that they were horrid and wrong. They would hurt Sirius! He knew they would hurt, those unnatural tempting voices of things that could never be, and he knew what he had to do.  
He ran, deaf to his surroundings and deaf to the pleas and screams of those around him. All that mattered was Sirius and the Veil.  
The misty wisps swallowed him and the whispers became screams.  
His screams.

* * *

His fingers threaded between the grass and his hands clutched clumps of it desperately. The uncomfortable throbbing of his head, the smell of the dirt and grass and the horrible feeling of a stone digging into his back told him this was real. It was over. He was out of the Veil.  
The remembered pain made him shudder and tighten his grip on the grass in his fist. He must have spent years in there, spent years screaming and weeping from the physical and mental anguish caused by the trip. The trip to where, he had no idea, and, at the moment, he couldn't care less. All that mattered was that he was out.  
Hesitantly, Harry raised his head to glance around and, upon sighting nothing too out of place, lowered it once more. Resting his throbbing head on the ground, Harry waited until he felt as though he could move again and then slowly sat up, his stomach rolling unpleasantly. He unsteadily got up onto his feet and, once more, glanced around. Upon sighting another man's form lying not too far away, he went sprawling forward, frantically scrabbling his way over the ground until he reached the man.

"Sirius." He breathed, his hands nervously fluttering over Sirius' form, hovering millimetres above the man's tattered clothing.  
Harry rolled his godfather over onto his back and carefully watched for the rising and falling of the chest that should have been there… but wasn't.  
Harry jerked at this revelation and he stared blankly at the motionless form for seemes to be forever before a shaky hand reached out to feel Sirius' neck for a pulse.  
But there wasn't one.

He felt completely numb. Sirius was dead. No! Sirius can't be dead! He isn't! It was just a joke! Just a stupid joke.  
"Sirius…", he croaked, "Wake up…"  
He leaned over the man, staring intently at the slack face, then lightly shook the man by his shoulders. There was no response.  
"Sirius, get up. We need to get back to the others."  
A strained grin made its way onto Harry's face. Sirius was being silly again.  
"Oh, ha ha, Sirius. Scaring your godson like this, very funny. Now, let's get going."  
The man still didn't move. Sirius was going too far.  
"Wake up!" Harry hissed, suddenly furious with the man, "Wake up, Sirius! This isn't funny!"  
He raised his fist and brought it down onto Sirius' chest so heavily that Sirius' chest seemed to collapse under his fist.  
"Get up!" he screamed.

Harry pummeled the man's motionless form; the fury in him dissipating a bit with each angry punch until all that remained was overwhelming sorrow. He lowered his shaking hands and limply fell on top of Sirius' chest.  
"Please," he sobbed, "please, get up."

Despair coursed through Harry, reminding him of his past when he hadn't had friends or Sirius, the feeling had returned with a vengeance. Despair, his friend that he hadn't missed at all and, now, those times in his cupboard that had left him, returned. He didn't know where he was, what to do or how to move on. Time had frozen for him and all he could feel was the crush tightness in his chest that pierced though his numbness.

Harry realised with a purposeful detachment, that it was dark, and cold. Once more, he was the child forgotten and alone in the dark. He shivered and clutched Sirius closer to himself; it was so cold.  
Sirius' body was cold too, Harry noticed, and he removed his jacket to put it on top of Sirius. Sirius shouldn't have to feel cold, not after his years of being cold in Azkaban were over. Harry would be the one to suffer tonight.  
His puffy, red eyes closed and he curled into a ball beside the frozen corpse. He'd take his jacket back in the morning.  
He'd stop pretending when the sun rose.

* * *

Someone was shaking him. They were shaking him gently, but that didn't stop him from tensing. He slowly sat up and turned to see who was trying to get his attention. He was met with the sight of two blue eyes staring at him out of a worn and wrinkled face. Harry blinked slowly as he looked at the woman's old fashioned clothing and raised curious eyes up to her face. Most of her greying hair was pulled up into a bun but the rest of it fell gently around her face.  
"Child, why are you out here? And what are you wearing?" she asked kindly, her voice soft and gentle.  
Unsure of how to respond, he stared at her blankly and then turned his eyes back to the still form of Sirius. She noticed his straying eyes and shook his shoulder once more, returning his attention to her face and her sympathetic eyes. He could tell that she was trying to distract him from the body beside him.

"What happened to you and your friend?"

He stared at her, unresponsive and unwilling to answer, she continued to inspect him penetratingly before sighing and bending down so that she was at eye level.  
"Why don't you come with me, child? I have an extra bed in my house, it has been empty since my son left home. I shan't pressure you to tell me anything and, if needed, will vouch for you. Come with me, child."  
Harry searched her face for any sign of mistruths and, upon finding none, gave a wary nod then held up a hand. She rewarded him with a bright smile, helped him to his feet and led him away from Sirius' body.  
"What's your name? I can't keep calling you child."  
He flinched at the question, glanced once more at the body behind him before staring resolutely forward once more. He would not turn away from whatever his future held.  
"It's Sirius. Sirius Black."

* * *

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tangled or Harry Potter._

_AN: So this is the prologue written by Ink Scars and the next chapter will be written by Musicalette... are you guys excited? I AM! I can't wait for the next chappie! And diD you know this is the first HP/Tangled crossover? WOOT!_

_PLEASE SEND ENCOURAGEMENT AND FEEBACK!_


End file.
